The Society
by DrellNCo
Summary: Ella Schlasser, a young American witch, has been fascinated with Voldemort since she was only 12 years old. Four years later, with Harry Potter dead and Voldemort in control of most of the world, she wants out-- but how can she betray Voldemort and live?
1. Chapter One: Inspection

Chapter One  
Inspection  
  
I was in trouble again.  
It wasn't my fault, really-- they had made me angry. Michelle and Jenna, that is. The Dark Lord didn't mind if we spoke with the caged Muggles, but the way they were treating them was horrendous. I just couldn't stand it.   
"Polly want a cracker?" Michelle teased, poking her wand at the Muggle through the cage bars.  
"Stop," mumbled the Muggle, a pretty-faced girl with long, mousy-brown hair.  
"Stop?" snorted Michelle. "Why should we stop? You're just a Muggle. A dirty, filthy, MUGGLE!"   
Jenna strolled up and put her arm around Michelle. "This one bothering you?"  
"Yes," replied Michelle, mocking hurt feelings.  
"Fine then," laughed Jenna. "You know the punishment for hurting Mish's feelings, don't you, Muggle?"  
"No," she moaned. "Please, no..."  
"What are you guys doing?" I snapped, dropping several boxes of wands on the shelves. "You aren't hurting them, are you?"  
"Just was about to." Jenna grinned, then turned to the caged Muggle. "CRUCIO!"  
"Jenna!" I screeched, leaping on her back and struggling to find her wrist.   
"El-- ELLA! What are you doing?" snarled Michelle, pulling me off her back.   
Fortunately, as soon as I'd leapt on Jenna, she had pulled her wand off the Muggle. Still, the girl was huddled in the corner of her cage, shivering like mad. Even if the Cructatious Curse was only used for a short amount of time, it still hurt like Hell.  
"Alohomora!" The cage door popped open and out scampered the Muggle. She took one horrified look at us and ran straight through the door, causing all sorts of magical alarms to go off.   
"Are you crazy?" yelled Jenna, panting. "Today's the day the Dark Lord is coming for inspection! He'll kill us all if he finds one of the Muggles has escaped."  
"He's coming today?" My heart sank. "I thought it was next week...?"  
"No, today's inspection day, moron!" exclaimed Michelle, picking up her wand, which had fallen out of her hand when she went to save Jenna from my attack. "You're in for it, Ella!"  
"Damn," I cursed, pocketing my wand. "Someone use a Locating Charm, then, she can't have gotten--"  
"Good day, ladies."   
A cold, cruel voice pierced all three of our minds. I stumbled backwards at the words, which were like chips of ice thrown onto the back of my neck. I knew that voice quite well. It was the one of my master.  
"This Muggle seems to have escaped," said Voldemort calmly, pulling the girl into the room. He was gripping her by the hair cruelly, while tears dripped down her face. "I can't imagine how that could have happened. All of these cages are magically locked." He smiled icily at us. "Unless, someone let her out!"  
From behind Lord Voldemort stepped out John Riddle, his handsome, dark-haired son. No one had believe the Dark Lord when he told them he had a son. But apparently, far away in the Fortress of Azkaban, he had been learning every type of horrible Dark Arts there was. He had learned to resist the Dementors, and was no longer affected by them; he had learned how to kill the most powerful of wizards with the words "Adava Kedarva"; he had been taught by the Dark Lord himself.   
And was he powerful, both in words, minds, and deeds. He was able to calm his father's anger with a few soothing phrases, but at the same time, he was capable of flaring his father's anger to the point where he could use the Dark Lord's wrath against his enemies. Many feared him, but he was also fancied among many of the girls. I myself had never fancied him. He was different than a regular boy; he was mindless and cruel, and constantly dictated by his father's evil past.  
"It was Ella's fault," blurted out Michelle.   
"It was not!" I replied indignantly.  
John's brown eyes rested on me curiously for a moment. I gazed back at him, wishing, hoping, begging that somehow he'd help me. I knew he could command his father. Would he help me now? He has no reason to, I told myself. You're just another employee. But perhaps, if I was lucky, he would take mercy on me. It was the only hope I had left.  
"Ella," whispered the Dark Lord, "What is the meaning of this?"  
I swallowed nervously, wondering if perhaps there was safety in telling the truth. The Dark Lord had always been fond of me, more than any of the other female members. But then again, I had never given him any reason to be angry with me. Not until now, that is. Oh, sure, I had gotten in trouble tons of times with John and other ranks of authority in the society-- and I had scars to prove it.   
"They were-- the Muggle-- I didn't think it was right-- Just teasing and taunting-- so I unlocked the cage-- I'm sorry-- Oh, forgive me, Lord," I mumbled, falling to my knees. "Please, Lord, be merciful..."  
"I am not merciful to those who do not please me," said Voldemort. I could tell that he was repressing the anger in his voice so to make me even more nervous than I already was. "You have always pleased me, Ella. However, this time, you must be punished."  
"No, Lord, please, don't--"  
"Crucio!"  
I screamed in pain, each of my fingnails feeling as if someone was ripping them right out of their nail bed, my heart feeling as if it were burning in the fiery pits of Hell, and my head feeling like it was going to explode from the inside out. I clawed at the floor, reaching for Jenna's leg, but she quickly removed it from my reach.   
"Please!" I choked, staring up at the Dark Lord with bleary eyes. "Please! Enough!"  
"Enough?" he murmured, lifting his wand. "Enough for now. But if this happens again, Ella, the price you will pay will be much worse than that small dosage of pain."  
I simply answered him with a moan.   
"Put her away," ordered Voldemort, kicking the Muggle in the ribs. "And if I hear of her escaping again, I will be very angry indeed."  
He smiled gently at Jenna and Michelle, but he cast a dark look upon me. "You have displeased me, Ella."  
"I am sorry," I mumbled, getting to my feet.   
"You are my favourite," he hissed. I glanced to Jenna and Michelle, noticing that they looked crush that they were not the Dark Lord's favourite. "My favourite female. Someday, I would like you to wed my son. You are the only girl worthy of him."  
I gasped loudly. Voldemort pressed his cold hand over my mouth to supress any astonished exclamations I might make. "Just remember that. It may help while you are fufilling my duties. Do not displease me again, Ella."  
"I will not displease you, Lord," I muttered as he removed his hand from my mouth.  
"Good," he whispered, smirking. "Then you will be the princess on my throne."  
"Thank you, Lord," I whispered back.  
"Come, John. We have much to speak about." The Dark Lord left the room, his robes slithering across the hard marble floor.  
John cast another inquisitive look upon me. He seemed to be asking, "What were you thinking?" I can answer that question, I thought bitterly. I think that this is all wrong. I don't want to be Voldemort's princess. I want to be Ella.  
I want to be somewhere, anywhere but here...  
Long had I wanted to leave the Society. That's all those evil-minded fools called it; "the Society". It's official name was The Society for Voldemort's Followers, but most people didn't call themselves "members", even though that's what they were. They called themselves Death Eaters, but they weren't really that high up in rank. The Death Eaters assisted on actual wizard slaughter, and they were Voldemort's hand-chosen disciples. Members like Jenna, Michelle, and I were just workers at the Muggle Extermination Center, a disgusting place of Dark Magic and evil where the Muggles were kept in cages, awaiting their day for "extermination". Mostly the killers (called Mugtods) used the Killing Curse, Adava Kedarva, but sometimes, they tortured the Muggles to their death.   
I never watched the Muggle Killings. I used to, when I was younger and more foolish, but now, I refused to even be near the Extermination Room. When I had been younger, and had actually enjoyed being part of the Society, I had often been bitter that I couldn't be an actual Death Eater. Most likely, I would have been one of Voldemort's hand-picked followers, but he had a strict rule that females were not allowed to be Death Eaters. Sexist, yes. But it was just the reality of the situation. As a young, foolish girl at 12 years old, I was fascinated with Voldemort. I had repeatedly read every book I could find about his rise to power, and then his sudden fall to the little Harry Potter. At the time, I had hated Harry Potter with such a severe passion that I could have been the Dark Lord himself.   
But Harry Potter didn't matter anymore. He had been dead for four years now. Just as I had gotten involved in learning about Voldemort, Harry and the Dark Lord had a crucial battle for the peace of the wizarding world. Harry, naturally, lost. He had kept Voldemort at bay for a short while, but when it came to actual power, he had none.  
I met Voldemort shortly after the death of Potter. Great Britain had already been taken over by the Dark Lord, as well as France, Poland, and Austria. Germany put up a great fight, but it too fell. American wizards and witches knew it was only a matter of time before the Dark Lord came to the United States to take over the "land of the free". Most awaited the day with a sense of doom, but I was extremely excited at the time. I wanted to be the first to meet Lord Voldemort, for in my mind, he was a man of perfection.   
I was in American History of Magic IV when he came to Franklin's School of Magic. I have no idea why they named the school after a Muggle inventor, but they did. Franklin has always lived in Hogwart's shadow, and many of the American wizards and witches were bitter for it. Maybe that's why they accept Voldemort so freely when he came to visit. Visit, ha... He came to take over the school.   
IThere was a subtle knock on the door.  
"Come in," sang my History teacher. She was a 60-year-old, gray-haired witch, but she never seemed to tire of her subject. Nor did she let her students tire of it; she constantly found new ways to make American History of Magic IV exciting, if one can believe that.  
"We have a visitor," said our principal, who was short, bald, nervous, and currently shaking like a leaf.   
Inside stepped the skinniest and palest man I had ever seen. Never had I seen a picture of Lord Voldemort, so I didn't understand who he was at first. I just knew right away that I was intrigued by this man. He was cloaked in long, very black robes-- almost [I]too[/I] black, as if the black was some sort of trick to the eye. His eyes were narrow and red, like a snake's, and for some reason, they rested on me.   
"Why," he murmured. "What a beautiful set of children you have, Mr. Thomas." He smiled at all of us, while we quivered with anticipation. "I am Lord Voldemort, children," he announced, giving us an eerie smirk. "I trust you will all be joining me."  
There was a moment of silence. Then I spoke. I had always been the most vocal of the class.  
"I will, Lord Voldemort!"  
"Excellent, child. You will be based at the first of my Muggle Extermination Centers," he breathed, pleasure quavering on his every syllable. "Welcome to the Society." He paused for a moment. "Anyone else? Or would you rather die?"/i  
Thus began my service to the Society. About two years into the whole thing, I became tired of it and wanted to quit. But no one ever quit the Society. You would have to be a fool to quit, because there was only one way to quit the Society.  
You had to die.  
So, I continually protested against the mistreatment of the Muggles kept in the confines of the Muggle Extermination Center. We were located just outside of Chicago, but we weren't the only one. There was one near New York City, Boston, Los Angeles, Dallas, and several other cities across America. There were even more in Europe, but none were as powerful and as deadly as the one I worked in. The Massachusetts Muggle Extermination Center was the biggest-- and thus, more lethal-- center in the whole world. I never meant to be caught inside one of the most horrible death traps ever created by man. But I did.   
Albus Dumbledore (in my opinion, a fool of a wizard) had tried to retaliate with his own "society", but it had been feeble. It still existed, actually, but it now saved such a small percentage of people's lives that it was insignifigant. They called themselves the Order of the Phoenix. At first, the Order seemed to be gaining much power among European wizards. I had thought that maybe Lord Voldemort wasn't going to win after all. But then the downfall of young Harry Potter came, and immediately the Order went into chaos. One of their head wizards, Sirius Black was killed, along with mastermind of the Order, Arabella Figg.  
"Nice going, El," muttered Jenna, startling me out of my thoughts.   
I glanced over to the cage to see that the Muggle was back in her cage.  
"Poor thing," I said softly, kneeling by her cage. My hands were still shaking from the incident with Voldemort.   
"That 'poor thing' could have costed you big," said Michelle irritably, unpacking the boxes of wands. "Hey, I didn't know we were getting in another shipment of wands."  
"John wanted them," I replied, trying to keep the bitterness out of my voice. Michelle and Jenna were acting as if the whole thing was my fault, even though it wasn't. If they hadn't stirred me to anger, nothing would have happened. They Iknew/I I hated it when they teased the Muggles.   
"What for, I wonder?" thought Jenna aloud. "These are good quality, too," she added as an afterthought.  
"Maybe we're getting a shipment of kids, too," laughed Michelle scornfully.   
"What do you mean?" I asked suddenly, jumping to my feet.  
"Haven't you heard? They're sending a bunch of kids over from Franklin to be trained here. Good idea, actually. I can't imagine what kind of crap would go on here without us beautiful girls running the place." She grinned over at Jenna, who grinned back.  
I snorted. Beautiful girls indeed! Jenna and Michelle loved to eat more than they loved the Society. That was saying something. The pair was more obsessed with the Society than they were with Voldemort's handsome son. Anyway, their passion for food really showed-- each of them were short, about 5'1 or 5'2, and about 170 pounds. They were not natural beauties at all.   
I didn't like to evaluate my own beauty, but some had called me beautiful-- even Lord Voldemort himself. I figured that's why he wished me to wed his son. John would expect only the best of beauty and brains from his wife. Though I wasn't dark, sexy, and slinky like some of the girls in the Society, I did have long, blonde hair that naturally had many gentle waves. My hair was probably my best asset. Then came my eyes: bright, greenish-blue, and always active; my lips, which were nicely shaped, but nothing special; my body, which was big in every way, reflecting my German heritage. I wasn't fat-- especially not like Jenna and Michelle-- but I wasn't exactly a pixie.   
"That's horrible," I snapped. "Why can't the kids be educated at Franklin?"  
"I heard a lot of those kids were going over to the Order," replied Jenna calmly, examining one of the wands. "I guess they think if they educate them here, they're more likely to join the Society."  
Or maybe they'll realize that this place is one big nightmare, I thought.  
"Are you coming for dinner, Ella?" asked Michelle, wrapping the wands back up and stacking them in her arms.  
"I don't know. Maybe." For some reason, I suddenly felt very queasy.  
"Listen, El," said Jenna very seriously, "I know you haven't exactly been happy here."  
No duh, I thought sarcastically.  
"But you can't let this oppertunity pass you by," chimed Michelle.  
"What are you talking about?" I asked, mystified.  
"IJohn/I! Who else? IJohn/I!" Jenna rolled her eyes.  
"John?" I blinked. "What about him?"  
"The Dark Lord wants you to marry him, doesn't he?" asked Jenna. "Or am I just deaf?"  
"Oh, I dunno," I mumbled, turning away from them. "He was probably joking."  
"The Dark Lord doesn't joke. You know that." Michelle laid a hand on my shoulder.  
I wanted to vomit. They were all such fools!  
"So what's your point?" I snapped, my patience used up.  
"Don't blow it, El. That's all we're saying. IDon't blow it./I" Jenna sighed softly. "If I were in your shoes, I'd be the happiest girl in the world. The Dark Lord has always liked you. You know that. I wish he'd like me the way he likes you."  
"John will be the most powerful wizard in the world someday," added Michelle excitedly. "Imagine being on the arm of the most powerful wizard in the world!"  
"Sounds great," I said, not attempting any feigned enthusiasm.  
"It's not fair," cried Jenna. "Girls like us that Iwant/i to be with John can't, and the one girl in the whole world that Idoesn't/I want to be with him has to get him!"  
"Why didn't I speak first in American History?" moaned Michelle. "Maybe he would have noticed me."  
"You guys are so stupid!" I snarled, turning on them. "You don't understand, do you? Have you even been near the Muggle Extermination Room? Have you seen what the Mugtods do?"  
"We're not allowed near there, you know that," replied Michelle unhappily. "Only Iyou/I are."  
"They kill the Muggles," I told them passionately. "They Ikill/I them!"  
"Well, duh," giggled Jenna. "We know that. Filthy Muggles," she added nastily.  
"You don't understand," I mumbled. "You wouldn't understand. And you won't understand... Not until you see it with your own eyes."  
"Quit being so dramatic, El," snickered Jenna, moving towards the door. "Really."  
"Come for dinner, okay?" Michelle smiled at me as if I were her new best friend. "You're going to make a beautiful bride, Ella. You honestly are."  
"Oh, but--"   
"We'd better go ask John what he wants us to do with these wands," interrupted Jenna. "C'mon, let's go, Mish."  
As soon as they'd left, I knelt back next to the Muggle girl and sighed. She looked up at me with sad, scared eyes. No wonder she's afraid, I thought. She doesn't know if I'll be the one to kill her, or torture her, or anything...  
"I'm sorry about them," I murmured, poking a finger through the cage. "They don't understand."  
"Why are they doing this?" whispered the girl. "Why?"  
"I can't explain," I told her. "I don't think anyone can anymore."  
"I was part of the Order," she said in a low voice.   
"Aren't you Muggle?" I said surprisedly.  
She shook her head. "I went to Hogwarts."  
"Why are you here, then?" I exclaimed, watching her with interest. "You aren't Muggle, after all."  
"They would've killed me," she continued softly, "but I have information they want. They'll extract it from me soon." The girl blinked back tears. "I'm afraid that under the Cructatious Curse, I'll have no choice."  
"What do you know?" I whispered excitedly. "Tell me!"  
"No," she snapped. "I'll never tell!"  
"If you tell me, I might be able to help you."   
She seemed about to say something, but stopped. "Why would you do that?" she breathed anxiously.  
"I don't-- Let's just say I'm not an ordinary Society member," I managed to say.   
"All right then. But you must promise never to tell," she warned me.   
"I won't," I promised.  
"There is a girl from Hogwarts who's a few years older than myself that they're pursuing," she hissed in my ear, glancing up every now and then to see if anyone was listening. "You know now that they're rounding up all of Potter's old friends, and they're killing them all off, one by one. There's one girl who he was especially good friends with that they haven't been able to reach. Not yet," she added mournfully.  
"What's her name?" I demanded.  
"Hermione," whispered the girl. "Hermione Granger." 


	2. Chapter Two: Dining with the King

Chapter Two  
Dining With the King  
  
"By the way," she added. "My name is Ann."  
The girl, now known as Ann, had just finished telling me Ieverything/I-- all about Hermione Granger and the Society's plans for her. Even I hadn't known about this plan to capture her, and I was relatively high in rank. Whoever this Hermione Granger girl was, my heart went out to her. It wasn't easy hiding from the Society, even if you Iwere/I under the protection of Albus Dumbledore.  
"Thanks, Ann," I replied gratefully. "I'm Ella, by the way. Ella Schlasser."   
"That's a beautiful name," she whispered.  
"Thanks," I whispered back. I had no idea why I was whispering. It wasn't like anyone else was in the room. "If you ever need anything, just tell the employees that you know me. That might protect you a bit."  
"Thank you," she mumbled. "Oh, thank you so much, Ella!"  
"It isn't anything," I said uncomfortably. "No one really listens to me, anyway."  
"Will you help me, Ella?" she asked. "You promised you would."  
"All right," I said softly. "Close your eyes."  
She immediately obeyed, her eyelids closing over her sad, shining eyes. I lifted my wand over her and muttered, "Obliviate." As soon as I had done so, her eyes fluttered back open.   
"That will protect you for a while," I reassured her. "They're be frustrated with you, yes-- and there's ways of breaking these charms-- but it'll be easier if you don't remember anything."  
"What are you talking about?" she exclaimed, pressing up against the cage. "Why am I here? Let me out!"  
"Good luck, Ann," I muttered, patting the cage in a futile attempt to comfort her.   
I would have stayed longer, but she then began to cry, and I couldn't take it any longer. My lips formed into a weak smile and I left, leaving her with her sorrows. What could I have done, anyway? I thought unhappily, nodding to several workers as we passed in the hall. I couldn't have let her out. Look what happened last time!  
As I recalled my meeting with Voldemort, I couldn't believe how stupid I had been. I shouldn't have admitted it, I thought bitterly. He would have believed me over Jenna and Michelle. Then again, I never could have let Jenna and Michelle take the blame for my own deeds. The guilt would eat me up from the inside out.  
"Hey, El, there you are!"   
I almost crashed right into Jenna, who was accompanied by Michelle, of course. Why was she being so friendly, anyway? I raised my eyebrows almost to my hairline; it was one of my skeptical looks that I was quite famous-- or even infamous-- for. She didn't seem to mind, though; she smiled and grabbed my arm, chatting away unconcernedly.  
"You have to come to my living quarters so we can fix you up!" (Here at the Muggle Extermination Center, even the word Ihouse/I had a euphanism-- just in case it needed one. It wasn't a Ihouse/I, or a Ihome/I, or even a Iresidence/I-- it was Iliving quarters/I. "I just heard a rumor that Lord Voldemort is going to be dining with us tonight!"  
"Imagine! Dining with Lord Voldemort! Dining with the king!" squealed Michelle, her hands fluttering to her face. "He Inever/I dines with us. He always has to have his little private dinner. I bet something big's going on!"  
"Give me a break, you guys," I laughed, rolling my eyes. "You aren't serious?"  
"Of course we are!" gasped Jenna, still keeping a firm grasp on my arm. "Maybe he's going to make the announcement tonight. You know, the one about John."  
"What [I]are[/I] you talking about?" I snapped.  
"You know what I mean. About John's... affiancement?" She bit her lip. "Is affiancement a word?"   
"Stop trying to be smart, Jen," giggled Michelle. "What she means is, the Dark Lord might make the announcement tonight about you and John getting married!"  
"Oh God, no, help me!" I groaned, stopping dead in my tracks. Jenna jerked backwards, not expecting my full halt. "You can't... He can't... Argh!"  
"I can't believe you, El!" Jenna shook her head at me. "This is John Riddle we're talking about. He's handsome, he's bold, and he's..." She shuddered slightly. "IPowerful./I"  
"Yeah, and scary as Hell," I shot back. "Who would want to be married to a guy you know can blow your brains out any moment?"  
Neither Mish or Jen spoke. I think I confused them by asking a sudden question which actually required them to think.   
"It's worth it," Jenna said finally. "It totally is."  
"You're both crazy," I sighed, rubbing at my right eye. "I'm not hungry, anyway."  
Michelle paused for a moment, then grabbed my free arm. "Let's go, Ella."  
"Wha- what are you doing?!" I shrieked as they both began to drag me down the hall.   
"Helping you," said Jenna simply.   
Two hours later, I was prettier than an English princess. Michelle had pulled out one of her prized velvet dress robes, and Jenna had supplied the makeup. One of the other girls from our living quarters, a pretty Asian-American girl named Erin, brought in some magical mousse she'd gotten from her trip to Russia. After they rubbed it through my hair and brushed each strand at least a thousand times, my hair glimmered like a placid lake, and my face glowed as if it were a veela's. It was great if you liked that type of thing-- but I didn't. I didn't at all.  
When I first glanced at myself in the mirror, I felt a fleeting feeling of pleasure, which was quickly replaced by irritability. If this was the way to a boy's heart-- pure looks and vanity-- then I was going to run to the nearest covenant. I doubted John would be impressed by this "beauty" anyway; he had never shown any interest in any of the girls, except for one dark-haired girl who had long since been killed in service to the Society. There was a rumor that she'd attempted to "quit" the Society, but this rumor had quickly been quelled by the smarter bunch in the Society. She was too faithful, they'd said. She'd never even dream of committing such a grievous crime as to leave the Society.   
Just as I opened my mouth to protest, the dinner bell rang, loud and clear. Jenna, Michelle, and Jess became a trio of furious gigglers, their eyes raking over my body to make sure all was perfect. To my astonishment, my hands began to shake nervously, thoughts of John and the Dark Lord racing through my mind. Stop it, I scolded myself. You're probably making a big deal of nothing. Somehow, my heart couldn't truly agree with my thoughts. As Michelle had exclaimed, something big had to be going on. The Dark Lord never mingled much with lower employees. The only reason he bothered with me was, because, as I had said, I seemed to be his favorite, and secondly, both he and I knew that if I were older, I'd be an official of great rank in the Society.   
"It's time," announced Jenna dramatically. "Let's go!"  
"I don't know if I can do this, you guys. I'm feeling kind of--"  
"Don't be stupid," interrupted Michelle. "You'll be perfect. You certainly Ilook/I it."  
"Oh, she does," agreed Erin. I had always thought her to be more sensible than the others, but perhaps I was wrong. She was as excited with my possible engagement to John as Michelle and Jenna were.  
An eruption of murmurs and whispers rippled across the table as I entered. Was it the way I looked? Or did they know something I did not?   
"Sit, ladies," said Lord Voldemort in a soft voice. He was seated at the head of the table. "It's a pleasure to have you here."  
Michelle and Jenna immediately began to giggle, poking and swatting at each other excitedly. I rolled my eyes.  
"Sit, Ella Schlasser."   
It was then that I noticed I was still standing like a fool, while everyone else was already seated. What's with me? I thought angrily, practically bulleting to my seat. Have I gone crazy? Probably everyone thinks so.   
"It is tonight," breathed Lord Voldemort, "that I announce news that many of you will find startling." He spoke in no more than a whisper, but the whole room was hanging onto his every word. "You all should know that I had taken a lover only a few days before my downfall to the foolish Harry Potter more than 16 years ago. My son was produced because of this, but he was hidden far in the Fortress of Azkaban. After I realized it was safe, I helped him to reemerge, and now he is the most powerful wizard in the world, save for myself. Now, as he gets older, he will wed."  
Michelle reached over and squeezed my hand happily. I quickly jerked my own hand away.  
"Tonight is the night that I will announce his bride. She is already aware that I have been planning this. Now that I have gotten the approval from my son, I will make it official."   
I glanced over at John. Did he really want to marry me? As Voldemort said the words, "I have gotten the approval from my son", John's face contorted as if he were biting into a lemon. Obviously, he was being forced to marry me, too. Just like I was going to be forced to marry him. For a moment, I felt a pang of pity for him, but the pang was soon overtaken with pity for myself.  
"One week hence, my son will be wed to a marvelous girl. Though being a bit troublesome at times..." He chuckled, his gleaming red eyes smiling at me, "she has always proven faithful to the Society and myself. That is why it gives me great pleasure to announce that one week hence, my son will be wed to..."   
There was a dramatic pause. I felt Michelle's leg twitch next to me.  
"IElla Schlasser./I"  
"Oh my God," I moaned, my hands slapping to my mouth.   
The crowd murmured their assent, taking my terrified expression for an expression of ecstasy. The Dark Lord knew better, though. I smiled shakily and stuck out my hand for fellow employees to shake; I accepted congratulations graciously and pretended to enjoy the pats on my back. However, I trembled under the Dark Lord's stare. Everyone-- the employees, the Death Eaters, and even his enemies, members of the Order-- knew that Voldemort posessed something no normal man, wizard or Muggle posessed. He knew things. He could sense a lie, and he could also sense deception. Does he know? I wondered uneasily.   
Even if he did know, he didn't say much about it. He simply clapped his hands, conjuring our dinner in an instant. Everyone around me ate healthily, but I wasn't hungry-- not at all. In fact, I thought that if I even tried to take a bite of anything, my stomach would repel it. I'm going to be married, I thought wildly. I'm going to be married to John! John Riddle! The son of Voldemort! The son of the most evil wizard of all time! As I glanced up from my plate, I noticed John staring at me. What does he want? I wondered, looking away and blushing.  
At the closing of dinner (I still hadn't eaten anything), I quickly left my seat before Michelle and Jenna could grab me to drag me off to who-knows-where again. As soon as I'd escaped, I practically ran to my living quarters, tears streaming down my cheeks. I was trapped. I hated the Society, and I hated all it standed for. I even hated Lord Voldemort. But because of my own stupidity, I was going to marry Voldemort's son, and thus be trapped in this hateful world forever.   
"Ella Schlasser," said a soft voice.  
I gasped and turned around. No one ever entered my private living quarters without my permission. Even though each individual's living quarters weren't locked, most employees of the Muggle Extermination Center had enough courtesy not to enter each other's quarters. But the man standing in my doorway was not just an employee. It was John Riddle.  
"I'm sorry about my father," he said quietly. I had never noticed how heavy his British accent was until now. "It's not my choice. I would not force you into something like this."  
"You could, though," I sniffled. "Couldn't you?"  
"Yes. But I wouldn't."  
Silence. Imagine how we'll be like when we're married if this is the best conversation we've had so far, I thought gloomily.  
"Must you cry?" he said suddenly.  
"Yes. I must," I replied. "Unless it displeases you, sir."  
"It does."  
"Why?"  
"Because I do not enjoy seeing a young woman in pain."  
"Many Muggle girls are tortured every day here, don't you know?" I gazed at him reproachfully.  
"I do not order them to be tortured, do I?" he mumbled.  
"Who does, then?" I snapped, surprised with my own boldness.  
"My father, you foolish girl," he snarled back. I saw his hand plunge for his wand, and I stepped backwards. He noticed where I was watching. "I'm sorry. Sometimes, my anger..." He looked away.  
"Can't you ask your father that you be allowed to marry someone else?" I pleaded.  
"No."   
"Why not?" I implored him.  
"He is my father. He is Lord Voldemort. You do not question his ways." I couldn't help but notice that John sounded like a programmed robot, automated to spit out answers.  
"He's your father," I said unhappily. "Everyone knows you're the only one who can control him."  
"There is a limit to what one can control, Ella," he whispered, his brown eyes gleaming from the moonlight streaming through the boxy window in my quarters.  
"I wanted to marry for love," I blubbered suddenly, more tears escaping my eyes. "Now, I'm afraid that... Ohhh..."  
To my complete and utter shock, he stepped close to me and enveloped me in his arms. I let out a choking sob, allowing him to do so, while I wrapped my own arms around his shoulders. It wasn't so much that I wanted him to hold me, it was just that I need someone to hold me, and he was the most available body. I was surprised to see that he was smaller than I'd imagined he was; his shoulders were tiny and bones poked through his skin like rods. For one of the most powerful and evil wizards in the world, one would expect John to be a little more... threatening, maybe? But as I held him, he felt like a normal boy, except thinner-- much thinner.  
"I wanted to marry for love, too," he told me quietly as we broke apart. "Sometimes things don't work out that way. We'll make the best of it, Ella."  
I can't believe I'm talking to John Riddle this way, I thought, amazed. It's as if he's a normal person, even though I know very well that he's not. "Thanks, John."  
"There is no need to thank me," he said, shaking his head. "My words are for your comfort as well as my own."  
I sighed. "Thank you anyway."  
"Well, then, you're welcome," he replied, pulling his cloak tighter around himself. "I suppose I'll go now."  
"Wait!" I called.  
"What?" he asked, beginning to sound agitated. It was as if he was thinking, "I'm already being forced to marry her... What more can I do?"  
"Did you love her?" I asked, my heart skipping a beat. Shouldn't've done that, I told myself. Really, should not have done that, you're going to be killed, he's going to--  
"Who?" he snapped, his face contorting with anger.  
"The girl. The one who was killed in service to the Society."  
"Know this, Ella," he hissed, "If you want to save your own neck, you'd best be not mentioning her. I would not harm you because of it, but there are those who will."  
"Why, though?" I asked eagerly. "Is it true about--"  
He held up a hand to silence me. "Because you are my future wife, then I shall tell you the truth. Yes. Serena, my first and true love, attempted to quit the Society. And that is why she is dead." His face crumpled, as if he might cry. "What's even more lovely about it, I got to do the honors. I killed her myself."  
"You..." My jaw dropped. "But..."  
"You will learn many things as my wife, Ella. The first thing to learn is, if you betray the Society or my father, even I will not be able to help you." He gave me a long, searching stare, then turned his head. "Goodnight, Ella."  
"Goodnight," I whispered. 


	3. Chapter Three: The Lord's Saliva

Chapter Three  
The Lord's Saliva  
  
"Shut up! You'll wake her."  
"Just open it! What's your problem, Herm?"  
"I can't open it! If I could, I would, Ron!"  
I faintly heard the jiggling of keys and the rattling of a cage door. My eyes snapped open and I peered over at Melanie Granger's cage, which was surrounded by two wizarding types. One was the brown-eyed, bushy-haired girl I'd seen before passing out, and the other was a freckly, red-haired boy. Neither of them had noticed me awake yet, so I crept behind them to retrieve my wand. The bushy-haired girl was clutching it loosely in her palm, so it'd be much too easy to pull it out.  
Before she could feel my movements, I curled my fingers around my wand and yanked it out of her hand. She cried out in surprise, whirling around and nearly knocking her nose with mine. I smirked lightly, pointing my wand at her chest.  
"So, thought you could just knock me out, huh?" I snapped, a growl rising in my throat. "I'm not that weak, you fool!"  
"We're here for my mother," she replied defiantly, glaring at me tensely. "Open the cage!"  
"Even if I knew how to, I wouldn't! It's my job to see that she doesn't escape! And now, I'm going to report you." My hand reached for a red button on the wall-- the alarm button.  
"No, please!" There was a sudden sense of desperateness and urgency in the girl's voice. "Please... Miss... Oh, I don't even know your name, but... Have mercy, won't you?" She gazed at me with her shining brown eyes.  
"I don't do mercy," I mumbled. Even so, my hand faded away from the button and slowly found its way into my lap.  
"Where are they keeping her?" she demanded.  
"Who?" I sputtered, blinking at her as if she were mad. "Your mother's right there."  
"No, not my mother, a friend of mine," she explained impatiently, tapping her foot. "Have you seen--"  
Melanie Granger smiled gratefully up at me, interrupting her daughter. "Are you a spy?"  
"What?" I exclaimed, my hands fluttering to my chest. "Are you crazy?"  
"She's not crazy," said the girl softly, scrutinizing my body, looking me up and down as if searching for some defect. "If you really were one of Voldemort's, you would have had us captured by now."  
"I [I]am[/I] one of Voldemort's," I mumbled. "I just... I can't... It's too late for me," I burst out. "I can't turn back now. I can either chose death or a lifetime service to the Society. Which one would you choose?"  
"Death!" cried the red-headed boy, slamming his fist into his palm. "This place is disgusting! Muggles screaming behind every corner! Blood lining the corriders! And the worker's disgusting smiles--"  
"Ron," whispered the girl tenderly, laying a hand on his arm. She then turned her attention back to me. "So, you aren't really one of them. I mean, you are, but... you aren't."  
"Sort of," I replied, raising my eyebrows.  
"Then maybe... Could you help us, Ella?" she whispered excitedly. "I'm trying to find my friend Anne, she was taken captive here only a short while ago, and I'm hoping to--"  
"She's..." I cast my stare downwards. "She's dead. I'm sorry," I added.  
"Oh, no," she gasped, tears filling her eyes. "Anne... I never... Oh, Ron," she sobbed, grabbing for the redheaded boy. He wrapped his arms around her, shooting me a suspicious glare.  
They stayed like this for a few moments, locked in their embrace. I simply looked on. No one had ever held me like that-- save for maybe Tom Riddle, that one night when we had spoken-- and I doubted anyone would ever hold me like that again. For a moment, I felt a fleeting feeling of-- well, I don't know what it was. Jealousy? Sadness? It was something between the two. Either way, I didn't enjoy it.  
Just as they broke apart, there were ghastly footsteps behind them. The sound of a cloak slithering along the floor was clearly audible, as well as the soft breathing of a human. My neck practically snapped as I jerked my face towards the noise. There, standing a few feet in the room, was John. John [I]Riddle[/I].  
"What is the meaning of this, Ella?" he hissed, rushing towards me and grabbing my wrist. His grip was surprisingly strong for such a bony boy. "This is indeed Hermione Granger. And Ron Weasley," he added, shooting off the syllables with obvious distaste.  
"Please, sir, don't," I pleaded, clutching his arm desperately. "I just was talking, I meant no harm..."  
"You should have reported their presence immediately, Ella," he snarled, shaking his arm out of my grip. "Have you gone completely mad?"  
"Oh," I moaned, falling to my knees and burying my face in my hands. "I'm as good as dead, oh, it's all over..."  
"Stop," he begged. He imitated my actions, falling to his knees and placing a hand under my chin. "Please. I can't bear it... I can't..."  
"I'm sorry I displeased you, John," I mumbled, a few tears making their trails down my cheeks. "I just... I don't love the Society anymore. I frankly can't stand it. Your father is an evil, horrid man, and I wish I could bring him down!" I gasped inwardly, shocked at my sudden outburst of words. He'd kill me now for sure.  
"You--" His eyes bulged at me in horrified disbelief. "You are unfaithful?" he finally choked out, grabbing my hands with his. "You... You angel," he added in a whisper.  
"What?" I exclaimed.  
"I have always been expected to follow in my father's footsteps. I bear his blood. I bear his name. But no one has ever imagined that I've dreamed of more than this..." He looked up towards the ceiling, as if imagining faraway places. "No one has ever expected me to want more than the screaming of Muggles, the blood of my enemies, power over the whole world..." He closed his eyes slowly. "But I have dreamt of more... Much more than this."  
"I didn't... know," I said finally. For once, I was at a loss for words.  
He smiled sadly at me, then leaned over and pressed his lips against mine. This was the last thing I had been expecting, but surprisingly, his lips were warm, gentle, and friendly. I almost felt myself yearning for more... This is John Riddle! my mind was screaming at me. The second most evil fiend on earth! But at the same time he's... [I]Beautiful.[/I] As he pulled away from me, I felt myself smiling back at him.  
"All right," said Ron loudly, completely destroying the moment. "Can we just get Mrs. Granger and get out of here?"  
"It's not that easy, lad," said John darkly. "You need a key... And not just any key. You need the key that lies only around the neck of my father, Lord Voldemort."  
"You-Know-Who?" exclaimed Ron in a whisper. He turned his eyes on Melanie. "Sorry, Mrs. Granger, but it looks like you're going to be here for a while."  
"Ron!" snarled Hermione. Ron recoiled slightly. Hermione then turned back to John and I. We were still holding each other, as if we were to let go, we'd both fall apart. "Can you help us? Then again, [I]why[/I] would you help us?" She narrowed her eyes. "This is a trap, isn't it?"  
"I don't need to set traps, m'lady," he replied politely. "I could kill all four of you right now if I wished."  
I shuddered slightly in his arms, which only caused him to hug me tighter.   
"So, you, the [I]son[/I] of You-Know-Who, are going to help me free my mother and escape from here?" Hermione crossed her arms in front of her chest and gave both John and I a searching stare.  
"If it is what my princess wishes," he replied quietly.  
"We have to escape," I whispered, tugging at his robes. "If we leave now, your father will never catch us. We can join the Order and help bring him down..."  
He shook his head. "It is madness, Ella. His powers exceed my own."  
"We can't stay here," I cried, fresh tears pricking my eyes.  
"No," he murmured. "We can't. But now is not the time to think of it. First, we will help Miss Granger. Then, we will speak of escape."  
I nodded slowly, struggling to see the logic of his plan. Before I had come up with anything else to say, he began to speak again.  
"As I said earlier," he announced, his arm tightening around my waist, "you need the key which lies around my father's neck. Not only that, you must moisten it with the Dark Lord's saliva for it to fit properly into the lock."  
"And you know this?" said Ron suspiciously. "How?"  
"I am the Dark Lord's son. He would never expect any unloyalty from me." The last few words shook, as if he realized what kind of decision he was making. He was forfeiting the throne, forfeiting his chance to be prince of the world, at the right hand of his evil father...   
"John," I murmured, grasping his bony hand in mine. He smiled down at me, but it was a mournful smile-- he knew very well what he was giving up. Even so, as he felt my hand in his, he seemed to strengthen.  
"I know what I can do," he said suddenly, his grip tightening on my hand. "My father sleeps as light as a cat. That is our biggest weakness. However, I will learn to fix this. You just leave it to me."  
"I trust you, John," I said sincerely.  
He smiled, a trace of his old evil self flashing across his face. "Good, Ella. Because trust is what I will need from all of you." 


End file.
